The ice on the lake is so clear and thin that I have to feel it to know it is there. Currents of water arrive from the woods above and flow around the islands of brightness.

I run a finger along the wafer-thin edge, then break off a slice and slide it along the surface until it disappears into the open water.

Once I swam here with a loon when May had just begun. It dove and surfaced. I dove and surfaced.

The sky is peaceful in its layers of gray and silver. I turn to walk back up the hill, giving thanks for places where beauty so easily brings mind, heart, and body into communion.